


Between how it is and how it should be

by frostysunflowers



Series: Irondad Bingo [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter and Bucky hang out a lot, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: ''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering whereyouare?''





	Between how it is and how it should be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blondsak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/gifts).

> This was meant to be shooooort guys what the hell. 
> 
> This is for the Betrayal square for Irondad bingoooo - I honestly never expected to end up writing a fic featuring Bucky so much, but this idea struck me one night and wouldn't let go of my thoughts. I don't even know what to say about it really but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I want to say a HUGE ASTRONOMICAL THANK YOU to blondsak - this fic wouldn't exist without her, and I definitely would have cried way more tears over it than I did if it weren't for her putting up with my ridiculousness. I love you dude, so much! <3

''Uh…h-hey, Sergeant Barnes.''

The man perched on the edge of the fire escape turned to look at him over his shoulder.

''Hey, kid.''

''What, uh, what are you doing up here, sir?''

Bucky snorted at the moniker. ''Do I look like I go by the name sir? Just call me Bucky.''

Peter nodded, scratching the back of his head. ''Okay, Bucky, um…why are you up here? Shouldn’t you be at the tower?''

''What, a guy can’t go for a walk now and then?''

A smirk appeared on Bucky’s face as Peter stammered out a response and he waved the hand of his metal arm in dismissal. ''Just needed some air, that’s all.''

Peter took an uncertain step forward, dithering for a moment, before a small nod from Bucky had him joining the man on the rooftop edge. He kicked his legs out in a steady rhythm, looking out at the glittering skyline, unsure of what to say.

Peter didn’t know Bucky very well. He knew the stories, the history of the Winter Soldier and the brainwashing Bucky had suffered at the hands of Hydra. He knew that there had been a huge fight in Siberia which had left Tony near dead and Captain Rogers on the run with half of the Avengers, and he knew that it had taken a long time to resolve the problems with the Accords.

In fact, the problems were s_till_ being resolved.

A deal had been struck which meant that the rogue Avengers and a fresh out of cryostasis Bucky would receive a full and public pardon and exoneration if they agreed to a certain number of terms; one being that they make either Stark Tower or the Avengers compound their permanent place of residence for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t house arrest but it wasn’t complete freedom either. It would be the way of things until a full agreement was made on all terms and conditions, and there was no telling how long that would take.

Tony hadn’t been thrilled about the idea. In fact, he’d been as angry as Peter had ever seen him. An accidental interruption of one of many phone calls with Fury had left Peter vowing to never, _ever_ get on Tony’s bad side.

Ferry incident aside, of course.

It hadn’t been as bad as Peter expected though. He knew that despite his outward hostility and reluctance, Tony actually wanted to help, because the fallout had never been something that he wanted. It had been the very thing that he’d tried so hard to prevent from happening and a more bitter side of Peter resented Steve and the others for even showing up after what they did.

But the better part of him knew what all of it was worth. The look on Tony’s face when the group had stepped out of the elevator had spoken volumes, even if it had been rapidly covered up a weary, media-practised front consisting of harsh eyes and a stretched smile.

After those first few turbulent days in which Peter would come by to the tower expecting a bloodbath and finding nothing but a fragile kind of peace, he found his inner fanboy practically trembling in giddy excitement at being in the presence of the Avengers, current or otherwise. Thor and Bruce had crashed back to Earth a few months previous and had quickly set up camp in the tower, so it wasn’t totally unusual for Peter to interact with them every so often, but somehow everything felt different now and the events of Germany seemed a long way off from the bizarrely domestic environment Peter found himself in.

Hawkeye and Doctor Banner arguing over a chat show featuring some convoluted family domestic; Black Widow sitting cross legged on the kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal and reading a paper over Falcon’s shoulder while Thor cursed a blue streak at the toaster. Wanda and Vision had decided to reside at the compound, no doubt for the peace and quiet that came from not being directly in the city, but Peter had caught the odd glimpse of them every now and then, along with a dark haired guy who he later discovered to be Scott Lang, the guy who had swatted him out of the air after Peter had tangled his legs in webbing.

Peter saw Bucky once on the first day, looking awkward with his eyes sweeping the room for every possible exit, but had not seen anything of him since. His presence in the tower was part of the deal; though his name had been publicly cleared, neither Fury or Steve were willing to simply just throw the man back into civilisation and leave him to it, so it was agreed he would stay at the tower. Peter wondered if Bucky would have preferred to stay in Wakanda; he’d heard it was pretty awesome there.

Peter knew Tony had gone to great lengths to ensure that the two of them would never cross paths. Bucky’s room was several floors away from the rest, as far as it could be from the penthouse, and Peter had overheard Tony programming a few new alerts into FRIDAY so that there was no chance of them encountering one another.

Then there was Steve and Tony. For all the hostility still lingering between them, it wasn’t long before they were spending a lot of time together outside of any discussions relating to the Accords, of which there were many. It clearly wasn’t easy for them to begin with but the effort was there. The awkwardness and overly polite attitude of Steve clashed with Tony’s defensive humour, but there was warmth in the undercurrent that seemed to somehow spread to the other parts of the former team, pulling them in and knitting them back together with meticulous delicacy.

It was great. Really, it was.

Except Peter hadn’t actually spent any one to one time with Tony in over a month.

It wasn’t like the others weren’t welcoming. Though they had clearly found it a bit odd that Tony had an intern hanging around so much, they didn’t seem to mind too much. Still, Peter missed actually being able to talk to Tony without too many pairs of eyes watching, seemingly analysing each move and every word.

They still had no idea he was Spider-Man.

Peter, passing by on his way back from busting an armed robbery, had landed on the tower balcony to say a quick hello to Tony, not even thinking for a moment about the others, and found himself walking into a room full of people who had been trying to kick his ass the last time they met.

Tony handled it with his usual flare, quickly lowering the potential for an impromptu fight with a few smart words and a hearty pat on the back for Spider-Man, but Peter knew then that turning up again in his suit was a big no-no.

Just another thing added to the list of things that had changed.

Then of course there were all the team bonding events that Peter didn’t have a part in, as Spider-Man or as Tony’s ‘intern’.

Once those started, Peter hardly saw Tony at all.

In the space of the last two weeks, Tony had cancelled on him seven times. Seven.

_''Sorry, kiddo, we’re gonna have to take a rain cheque on lab night. I’ve been roped into watching some movie by Steve and you know how – alright alright, I’m coming – Thor, I swear to god if you don’t get the hell away from that toaster, I’m gonna bring it to life and send it to Asgard for all manner of – no, don’t do that – sorry, Pete, I gotta run. Speak to you soon!''_

_''Hey, Underoos. Sorry to do this again but can we switch our plans to Saturday? Bunch of stuff I gotta do for Fury, plus I’ve been hearing rumours in my beloved tower about some sort of battle for dominance over the refrigerator and I’ll be damned if I’m paying out for another – anyway, sorry kiddo, see you at the weekend.''_

_''Putting in my application for world’s worst mentor of the year award here. Can’t be helped kid, I’ll get back to you when I know my schedule, yeah? Make sure you text me if you need me though.''_

After those first three voicemails, Peter couldn’t bring himself to listen to any others that came through. Each time he saw Tony’s name on the screen of his phone, he knew what it would mean, and listening to the excuses wasn’t going to make him feel any better about it.

Peter tried not to be bitter or to feel too upset. He knew how important all of it was. They had all existed in Tony’s world long before Peter had so if anything, he was more of an intruder than they were. But him and Tony…the last few months had been nothing short of a dream come true for Peter. A few meetings with his childhood hero here and there had led to more and more: an ongoing stream of pointless but still appreciated texts talking about anything and nothing, the odd day out here and there, sleepovers at the tower when their lab nights ran late, playful banter in the back of Happy's car whenever Tony fancied coming along for the ride. There was uncertainty still, a funny sort of defensiveness between them, but their connection was strong, warm, supportive. 

They were close.

Well, at least Peter thought they were.

Now, as he looked at a lonely, dejected Bucky, Peter wondered if he’d ever been anything more than a stopgap in Tony’s life, a temporary distraction with no intention of ever being made permanent.

Peter studied the man sitting in front of him. With his long dark hair swept back from his face and the casual attire of a faded denim jacket and dark jeans, Bucky looked just like a normal guy. Without the presence of a gun or the obvious sheen of his metal arm, it was hard to picture him as anything but just a man instead of the super soldier that he actually was.

It was easy for Peter to look at him and see nothing of the history of the Winter Soldier, or of the guy that he’d exchanged multiple punches with in the middle of an airport.

When Tony looked at Bucky, all he saw was the man who had killed his parents.

Peter wasn’t sure if Tony was aware that he knew about what happened all those years ago. One of his first nights staying over at the tower had led Peter to tentatively seek Tony out after having a nightmare, finding the man perched on a chair in his lab with a video playing on a loop.

Peter had lurked in the doorway, out of sight, and watched it over and over, a sickening and vicious kind of sympathetic sadness churning in his stomach. He’d disappeared back upstairs, knowing that interrupting Tony would have been a mistake, and he kept his knowledge to himself, figuring that it wouldn’t ever be relevant or really matter.

Except now, it kinda did. It didn’t need to be said that Tony wouldn’t like it, Peter already knew. It had been one of the things he’d heard Tony growling at Steve on one of those first days.

_(''He’s your business, Rogers. I’m doing what needs to be done, but you keep him the hell away from me and from Peter. I catch him even looking at the kid and it’s Goodnight Vienna, got it?'')_

Then Tony _did _say it. ''You keep away from him, kid, understand? And if he approaches you, come straight to me. Guy's dangerous, and I don't need another reason to worry about you. No arguments, okay?''

But Peter felt bad for the man. He’d been captured, experimented on, subjected to the cruellest kind of torture that had led to him committing the most brutal acts; he had lost so many years of his life and had essentially paid the price for another man’s evilness.

The Winter Soldier was gone.

Bucky Barnes was still here, and he didn't look dangerous at all. 

He looked sad, lonely, frustrated.

Peter knew how that felt.

''Hey, uh, you hungry?'' Peter asked gently. ''I know a place that does the best sandwiches in Queens.''

Bucky glanced up at him, a wary kind of surprise on his face. The rush of sympathy Peter felt for him was instant, overriding any trace of uncertainty or guilt he felt.

Tony didn’t need him around anymore.

But he was pretty certain that Bucky could use a friend.

Bucky regarded him cautiously for another moment before a tension that Peter hadn’t noticed earlier eased out of his shoulders.

''Sure.''

And that was how it started.

* * *

''So then, the Queen looks up and Ripley comes stomping out in this big lifter, and it’s all silent except for her foot stamping, and she comes right up close to the camera and says ‘Get away from her you bitch!’ and then – ''

''She kicks its ass?''

Peter stopped, looking completely crestfallen. ''How did you know that?''

''That’s been the ending for the last four movies you’ve told me about.''

''Oh…''

''Still good though,'' Bucky added hastily.

''Yeah…'' Peter bounced his sneaker off the side of the building, feeling a bit embarrassed.

''Can’t even remember the last movie I saw,'' Bucky said quietly, making Peter turn to look at him in interest. ''Was…well, a long time ago.''

''We could go.''

The words flew out of Peter’s mouth before he could even really think about them. He didn’t even know what movies were showing right now, but the idea of Bucky not having seen one since his return to the present day was just something Peter knew he couldn’t tolerate.

So they went without another moment of deliberation.

Peter could barely believe their luck when he spotted the words written on the billboard above the entrance.

''That the movie you’re always going on about?'' Bucky asked, nodding to the sign. ''The one with the laser swords?''

Peter wasted no time in dragging the man inside. He bought their tickets and as much candy as he could with the little money he had, and all but skipped his way into his seat. It took him a good few minutes to realise how silent Bucky was. It dawned on him then that the movie theatres back in his time would have been smaller, quieter – had Bucky even seen a movie in colour before? Peter didn’t know and wasn’t sure if it was polite to ask.

A familiar fanfare practically roared out of the speakers and Peter figured it was only due to his military experience that Bucky didn’t even flinch at the impressive volume. The man shuffled his shoulders and slouched down in his chair, grabbing a handful of popcorn and flicking a few pieces into his mouth.

''Let’s see what all the fuss is about then, huh?''

* * *

''They really got a robot on Mars?'' Bucky asked, reaching for more pizza whilst turning Peter’s phone this way and that to get a better look at the pictures.

''Mmhmm. She’s called Opportunity, Oppy for short.''

''She?''

Peter blushed. ''Well, I – I mean not _she, _though I guess she could be a girl? Mister Stark always refers to the bots as he so I guess I just – ''

Bucky patted him firmly on the shoulder, a sign for him to stop rambling. ''_She _looks great, kid.''

Peter accepted the phone back with a smile, feeling oddly proud. 

''No city on the moon though,'' Bucky mused a minute or two later.

Peter pulled an affronted face. ''I know, right? We’ve got aliens, so that means there’s other planets,'' he took an aggressive bite of pizza, ''least they could do is build a hotel up there or something.''

* * *

Bucky stared. And stared and stared until Peter started to feel just ever so slightly scared.

''You’re Spider-Man.''

Peter shrugged before groaning with pain. ''Y-yeah.''

''As in the guy who wouldn’t shut up the entire time we were fighting back in Germany?''

''…Yeah?''

Bucky stared for another few seconds, looking something between incredulous and frustrated, and then sighed.

''Yeah, of course you are.''

He knelt down, dropping Peter’s mask to the ground and reached out to hold the kid’s chin, eyes narrowing critically at the mess of cuts and bruises covering his face. He clucked his tongue as Peter curled his arm even tighter around himself, panting in short bursts of air to ride out the waves of discomfort.

''Jeez, kid, what they hit you with, a damn bus?''

Peter wheezed out a laugh, flinching away from Bucky’s hands as they poked at his ribs. ''A-actually, yeah.''

''We gotta get you to a doctor or something – ''

''I’m fine,'' Peter protested, sitting back against the wall with a heavy sigh. ''I heal – ah – really fast.''

Bucky paused, looking rather confused. Peter squinted up at him out of his good eye and offered a sheepish smile. Bucky’s lips twitched in kind and he barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

''You really are like Steve. What the hell did I do in a past life to get stuck with two idiots?''

Peter shrugged and then swore as the movement jostled his ribs again.

''Don’t insult me – when – I’m – injured,'' he hissed through gritted teeth.

''Stop being so insultable then.''

''S’not even a word.''

Bucky grinned. ''What you gonna do? Fight me about it?''

Peter waved a hand wearily at him. ''Maybe tomorrow.''

* * *

''Underoos!''

Peter blushed as Tony strolled across the kitchen with a grin and threw an arm over his shoulders. He gritted his teeth as a twinge of discomfort danced through his still tender ribs.

''Been a while, kiddo! It’s good to see you.''

Peter ducked his head, feeling strangely shy. ''You too, Mister Stark.''

''Ready to get in the lab and mix it up?''

Peter smiled, already being pulled into the familiar embrace of excitement that always seemed to catch hold of him whenever he was with Tony. He’d missed the man a lot and despite his doubts about their relationship, he’d practically shouted with glee when Tony had called and invited him over. 

Peter chuckled when Tony gave him a little shake of encouragement.

''Yeah, let’s do it.''

They were interrupted by Steve less than half an hour later.

_''Boss, Captain Rogers is requesting permission to enter the lab.''_

Tony flipped his goggles up into his hair and Peter didn’t miss the way his expression brightened. ''Let him in, FRI.''

Steve came into view a moment later.

''Hey, Cap!'' Tony greeted, wiping his hands on an oily rag. ''What’s the occasion?''

''Everyone’s heading out to brunch,'' Steve said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. ''So I thought I’d extend the invite.'' His eyes slid over to Peter and he smiled warmly. ''To both of you, of course.''

''How about it, kid?'' Tony asked, whipping his goggles off and throwing them onto a nearby workbench. ''I know it’s a bit early but I’ve developed a fondness for brunch lately. Feels kinda naughty somehow.''

He waggled his eyebrows and Steve shook his head with a fond snort. Peter felt something bitter and sharp wrap around his heart and squeeze. All the optimism he’d had about the day felt like it had been plunged into ice cold water. He squirmed uncomfortably as the two men looked at him expectantly.

''N-no, it’s okay,'' he said quickly, dropping the tools he was holding and reaching for his backpack. ''You guys go. I’ll, erm, catch you another day, Mister Stark.''

''Whoa, kid, hold on,'' Tony held up a hand, peering at him thoughtfully. ''What’s the rush? You okay?''

The urge to run was so overwhelming Peter was practically shaking with it.

''Yeah, just, um – '' his eyes danced between their intense stares, ''I just remembered I was supposed to do something today, so…''

He locked eyes with Tony and the sharpness in his chest turned into a pool of hot anxiety. Tony was looking at him with such suspicion, Peter felt as though the man could see straight inside his head. For one confusing second, he almost wished that Tony _could _see inside his head, because then he would know. He’d know how Peter missed him, how Peter wanted things to go back to how they were, back when he felt like his role in Tony’s life mattered, more than it did when he was nothing but mere back up and an inconvenience forced upon an unimpressed Happy.

More than it mattered now.

''I’ll s-see you later?'' Peter said, voice high and smile wide with fakery.

Tony sighed and waved him off. ''Okay, kid.''

Peter pretty much ran out of the door.

Two hours later, Bucky was patting him sympathetically on the back.

''You okay, Pete?''

Peter moaned into the trash can he was hunched over.

''Damn. I thought with all that swinging you do, the Cyclone would be a piece of cake.''

''Ate – too – many – churros – '' Peter gasped before retching again, shoulders heaving and knees nearly buckling from the assault on his system.

A hand, cold and hard, pressed softly just below his neck, steadying him.

''If it makes you feel better, Steve threw up after riding it too. Although everything used to make him throw up in those days so maybe – whoa, pal, you even got anything left in there?''

* * *

''You ever been hit by a broom?''

''Why?''

''That’s how we got rid of spiders in my day.''

''You know, it’s so weird when you say that and you don’t look a day over, like, thirty.''

''You just wish you could look this good at thirty, you little punk, let alone when you’re one hundred.''

''…Okay, now it’s weird _and_ it’s creepy.''

* * *

''Whoa!''

Bucky grimaced, grabbing the cap he always wore and shoving it back on his head. ''Come on, don’t – hey!''

Bucky took a swipe at Peter as he yanked the cap off.

''You look…awesome!''

Bucky’s eyes went comically wide, reminding Peter of an owl, before his brow furrowed and a snarky grin crossed his face.

''I hope you got a slicker compliment game when it comes to your girl, Parker,'' he ran a hand experimentally over his head, letting the cap hang by his side, '''cause I gotta tell ya, that wouldn’t cut it back in my day.''

Peter snatched the cap and threw it at him. ''Yeah, well, back in your day, being a soldier was a sure-fire way of getting girls to like you.''

Bucky laughed, face transforming into that of a much younger man. ''Trust me, pal, once I got shipped out, there wasn’t any time for romance.''

He patted Peter on the shoulder as he sat down beside him. ''You, on the other hand, need to ask that friend of yours out on a date.''

Peter blushed. ''N-no way, I couldn’t do that.''

''Oh, come on,'' Bucky grinned, ''what’s the worst that could happen?''

''I could, you know, die?''

''Hey, the ladies still dig Steve and he was on ice for seventy years.''

Peter eyed him scornfully. ''You know what? I take it back. Your hair sucks.''

* * *

Peter watched with a funny rush of joy as Bucky slowly pivoted on the spot, a small grin on his face as he took it all in.

''Been a long time since I came here.''

Peter smiled, turning in his own spin, trying to see it all through Bucky’s eyes.

''Has it changed much?''

''Everything changes, pal.''

''Can we not make this depressing?'' Peter asked petulantly. ''This is the library. It’s meant to be fun.''

Bucky’s eyes sparked with a flash of humour but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he followed Peter’s lead further into the building. He stuck close to Peter’s side and shifted the cap he was wearing just that little bit lower, even though it wasn’t necessary.

''Can’t you look all this stuff up on the internet now?'' he asked as he watched Peter steadily build up a stack of books in his arms.

''Sure,'' Peter replied, slightly muffled behind the growing tower, ''but sometimes it’s just nice to go old school.''

They took a seat at one of the gigantic tables. Peter pushed a few books towards Bucky who eyed them curiously before raising an eyebrow at Peter.

''You want me to read books about space?''

''Trust me,'' Peter said with a small laugh, ''you’ve got a lot to catch up on.''

Bucky picked up the first book and began to read, leaving Peter to make a start on his homework. It was strangely peaceful, sitting there on a rainy Saturday afternoon with Bucky. The loneliness he’d been feeling in the wake of Tony’s lack of contact didn’t seem so glaringly obvious when they were together.

''Y’know,'' Bucky said a while later, tapping the open pages in front of him. ''I’m reading this and I still can’t believe there’s no city on the moon.''

Peter rolled his eyes. ''You need to let it go.''

''I’m just saying. Seems like a conspiracy to me.''

Peter glanced at him, then grabbed the book. A quick peek at the contents had him leafing quickly through it until he found what he was looking for and he slid the book back across the table.

Bucky peered at the pages. ''Moon Landing Controversy?''

''Mmhmm. Right up your street,'' Peter said, turning back to his own book.

They sat quietly together for another short while before a thought suddenly came to Peter.

''Hey, Bucky?''

''Yeah.''

''Did you ever meet JFK?''

* * *

** _Tony Goddamn Stark_ ** _ – Hey kiddo sorry I missed you, was kicking Steve’s ass in the gym. If he tells you any different, he’s a liar. Call you back later._

** _Underoos – _ ** _ <strike>That’s okay Mr Stark</strike> _  
_ <strike>Haha that sounds really</strike>_  
_ <strike>I miss you</strike>_

  
** _Peter – _ ** _Hey you free?_

**B-Barnes – ** _Yeah. See you in twenty<strike></strike>_

* * *

Peter stretched out across the rooftop. The city was quiet tonight and he was oddly thankful.

Next to him, Bucky took a sip from a bottle of beer.

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where _you _are?''

Peter shrugged. ''I guess.''

''You should talk to him.''

''Yeah? And say what? Hey, Mister Stark, I’m an annoying, pathetic and needy kid who can’t stop feeling sad 'cause you’d rather hang out with the guy who beat the crap out of you than with me.''

''Nice to know you’re hanging out with me for my personality.''

Peter laughed quietly. ''Shut up,'' he said, giving Bucky’s leg a nudge.

''And to be fair…that wasn’t entirely Steve’s fault.''

''Don’t.''

There was a severity in Peter’s tone that made Bucky pause obediently. They looked at each other, all that had been and would probably forever remain unsaid passing between their eyes. It could be so easy, Peter thought, to hate Bucky, to hate Steve for all that happened. No matter who was right or wrong, nobody should ever come home as broken and beaten as Tony had.

Perhaps unfairly, Peter still harboured a touch of resentment for Steve, more than he ever had for Bucky.

''You’re not any of those things, by the way.''

Peter’s throat throbbed. ''I think Mister Stark thinks I am.''

''No he doesn’t.''

Peter rolled forward, bringing his knees up to rest his head on them. ''Yeah? How do you know that?''

''Overhear him and Steve talking sometimes. He never shuts up about you.''

''…Oh.''

Peter tucked himself further against his knees, hoping the pressure of them against his chest would alleviate the sudden tightness there. He wanted to believe Bucky, more than anything. He felt oddly lost, like he was out at sea without any sight of land and the boat he was sitting in was slowly sinking, letting in so much water at once that he couldn’t quite bail out fast enough.

''The thing with them two…it’s not personal, you know that, right? Stark isn’t choosing Steve over you.''

''Is that what you keep telling yourself about Captain Rogers?''

A shadow fell over Bucky’s face, something bitter and unhappy. He took a hearty swig of beer, wiping the excess from his lips against the back of his hand. After a considering look in Peter’s direction, he lifted up another bottle and held it out to him, popping the lid off with just his thumb.

''I’m underage,'' Peter said, almost like an apology.

Bucky rolled his eyes but left his arm out, neither pushing nor pulling away.

After a moment, Peter reached out to take it. He held it loosely, turning the bottle in a slow spin between his fingers.

''Sounds dumb but I always thought Mister Stark would take me for my first beer,'' Peter mused quietly. ''I mean my Uncle Ben…well, yeah, I guess I thought it would be Mister Stark.''

''Still could be,'' Bucky offered, taking another sip, staring out at the glistening skyline.

''Maybe,'' Peter whispered.

He glanced down at his phone. Three hours since Tony had messaged him and he still hadn’t called.

Peter’s eyes flicked down to the date on the screen.

''Hey,'' he turned to Bucky with a small smile, ''you’ve made it two whole months living in the city. Congrats.''

He held out his beer. The shadows melted from Bucky’s face and he responded in kind, tapping the glass necks together with a _ting._

* * *

''Hel – oh, shi – hello?''

_''How’s it going, Underoos?''_

''Oh! H-hey, Mister Stark,'' Peter flopped back onto his bed, one leg still tangled in his jeans, ''how are you?''

_''Eh, I’m rich and fabulous so can’t complain.''_

Peter smiled, closing his eyes and letting the familiar warmth of Tony’s voice wash over him.

_''Been missing you though, bud.''_

Peter’s eyes instantly flew back open and his heart started thudding against his ribs.

''Y-you have?''

_''Don’t sound so surprised,'' _Tony snorted, seeming a little embarrassed, _''I__ only have one overgrown spider in my life and I happen to be quite fond of him. For purely unemotional reasons, you understand.''_

''Oh, y-yeah,'' Peter chuckled, still dumbstruck, ''I get it. I, uh, I miss you too.''

_''Of course you do,'' _Tony sniffed before clearing his throat. _''__So, how about movie night this Saturday? Ice cream, popcorn, you and your ridiculously adorable pink pjs, what d’ya say?''_

Peter’s instinctive reaction was to almost yell ''hell yes!'' down the phone. Instead, he swallowed and clutched the phone tighter in his hand.

''Will it, uh, just be us? Or will there be others?''

Tony was silent for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost gentle. ''_J__ust you and me, kiddo.''_

Peter grinned, patting the bed covers with ecstatic glee. ''O-okay, Mister Stark, that sounds great! Guess I’ll see you then!''

_''Guess you will, kid.''_

* * *

Bucky let out a sigh as they walked through the crowds. It was raining again so that meant the museum was busier than normal, but Peter wanted to check out the new space exhibit so it seemed like the perfect time to go.

Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, for the most part.

''Y’know, I’m disappointed there aren’t flying cars.''

Peter barked out a laugh, earning a glare from an elderly couple standing by a display of antique engine parts. 

''What?'' Bucky said, giving Peter a gentle shove. ''I’m serious. The Stark Expo raved about them.''

Peter gaped at him. ''You went to the Stark Expo?''

Bucky faltered. ''Yeah. I mean, me and Steve took a couple of dames there for a date just before I shipped out.'' He straightened his shoulders. ''Why’s that so shocking?''

''Because you and Mister Stark, I mean Howard, I mean – '' Peter slapped a hand over his lips to try and cover the runaway words tumbling out of his mouth.

Bucky looked away, face darkening. It was an old gesture from when he used to hide behind his hair, but now that he was open and exposed, Peter could see the regret lining his face, making him look somehow vulnerable and dangerous at the same time.

Desperate to make it better but at a total loss for what to do, Peter carried on walking, trusting that Bucky would follow. They meandered through the crowd, not even realising they’d entered the World War Two exhibit until Peter found himself staring at an oversized image of Steve Rogers.

A look around revealed a giant display featuring not only the history of Captain America and his exploits during the war, but also the involvement of Howard Stark and how his legacy had been continued in the form of his only son, Tony Stark, the man who would go on to become Iron Man. 

It had been a long while since Peter had been to the museum, long before Ben had passed away, so Peter couldn’t remember if the display had always been there. It was huge, decorated with old war memorabilia and small screens playing clips of a younger Howard Stark talking about his expectations for the future, along with small snippets of Tony and some of the earlier versions of the suits. Steve’s voice boomed out of the speakers, sending an odd sort of shiver through Bucky.

Peter looked at the inflated image of Tony’s face. It wasn’t a recent picture, evidenced by the lack of lines by the eyes and the darker hue of the trademark goatee. There was also something off about the younger Tony’s eyes, like there was something missing from that piercing gaze that Peter had found himself on the receiving end of so many times.

He wondered if Tony knew about the exhibit. He looked at the image of Howard and shuddered. The similarities were there between the two Stark men, but there was something colder and more calculating about the look in Howard’s eyes; something so far away from the warmth Peter would so regularly see in Tony’s when they were together.

The urge to leave was suddenly overwhelming. Peter and Bucky didn’t say a word as they simultaneously turned and walked away, through the crowds and out into the drizzly afternoon. In an odd sort of daze, they stumbled into the nearest coffee shop and found themselves sitting at a table littered with old cups of tea and half eaten sandwiches.

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face and into his hair, smearing raindrops across his skin. His eyes were cold fury as they connected with Peter’s, like a scared animal that was seconds from lashing out.

''It’s…'' Peter let out a shaky breath, something like a little nervous laugh, ''it’s not your fault.''

Bucky’s head jerked like he’d been hit. His hands turned into fists on the table, the knuckles of his flesh hand going white.

''You don’t know – ''

''Yeah, I do,'' Peter hurried to say, so desperate to get it out before his courage faded, ''you’re not…you’re not _bad_, okay? You never were.''

Bucky was shaking, the exposed surface of his metal arm vibrating against the table, making the cold tea slosh against the sides of the cups. His shoulders hitched a few times, like he was trying to steady his breathing, but he didn’t look away from Peter’s face.

''That man’s face has haunted me for years,'' he said softly, ''even when I didn’t – even when I wasn’t _me…_when Steve found me and I saw Stark – _Tony – _for the first time in person, it was like I was there killing them all over again.''

''But _you _didn’t,'' Peter insisted, eyes stinging with frustrated tears, ''you’re _good. _A bad guy wouldn’t spend his time hanging out with me or try and help me when I’m injured or,'' he took a breath, ''or feel as awful as you do for something that isn’t your fault.''

He dipped his head to run his hands through his hair, trying to rid himself of the tension that was making it hard to breathe.

''Plus, I’m pretty sure bad guys don’t obsess over flying cars unless they’re, like, a Bond villain or something, and you probably have no idea what that is but I still stand by it.''

Bucky snorted and palmed his face with a shaky groan, almost like he was about to cry if he had a mind to let himself.

''Stark – '' Bucky cleared his throat, _''T__ony’s _classic Cadillac would look pretty great against the skyline, huh?'' he forced out, sounding anything but humorous.

Peter swallowed and plastered a grin on his face. ''Definitely,'' he said with a soft laugh.

They eventually ordered a drink each, hot chocolate for Peter and black coffee for Bucky, before stepping back out into the rain-damp air.

''Have fun tonight, punk.''

''You gonna be okay?'' Peter asked.

''Pete, I survived a pretty long time without you, and Steve for that matter,'' Bucky clapped him on the shoulder, warm and firm, ''I’ll be fine.''

* * *

Peter’s spider senses were tingling.

He swallowed the overflow of saliva in his mouth and quirked his jaw, trying to banish the feeling.

He was at the tower. There was nothing to be afraid of here.

The elevator came to a stop and Peter stepped out into the lab. His fingers curled into the sleeves of his hoodie and he puffed a long breath out of his mouth as he headed towards where Tony was standing.

''H-hey, Mister Stark.''

Tony didn’t say anything. He turned to look at Peter and the look on his face made Peter stop in his tracks. 

It was an odd look. Something calculating and suspicious with a heavy veil of distrust. Tony’s eyes shone with something harsh, a glimmer of what Peter could only identify as hurt.

''Mister Stark?'' The sense of foreboding that he had felt earlier was a crushing weight now. Peter’s chin wobbled just once before he swallowed. ''Are you okay?''

''Think that’s a question I should be asking you, don’t you think?''

Peter blinked, confused. The foreboding had transformed into full panic now; the skin on his arms practically stung with it and he felt like his bones were rattling with anticipation of an oncoming blow.

Tony shrugged. ''Well, you must be tired, kid, what with all the moonlighting you’ve been doing.''

A hologram appeared between them, making Peter jump. Though he could still see Tony through the transparent hue, his gaze fell onto the two figures sitting on the edge of a rooftop.

_''You know, when I can’t sleep, I drink loads of warm milk.''_

_''Do I look like the kinda guy that drinks warm milk?''_

_''No, because,'' _hologram Peter gently nudged hologram Bucky’s leg with a red-clad foot, _''__maybe if you did, you’d sleep better!''_

_''You’re such a punk.''_

The hologram vanished, leaving Peter and Tony to stare directly at each other once again. 

''I think playing therapist is a bit above your pay grade, kid.''

Something horrible was about to happen. Peter could feel it deep in his chest where his breath was sticking, down in his gut where a flutter of fear was beginning to make itself known.

''I wiped the footage from the city servers in case you were wondering,'' Tony said bitterly, bringing up a larger selection of holograms with a wave of his hand, ''seeing as you were too distracted by your new friend to even give a damn about protecting your identity.''

Peter felt his stomach plummet as he stared at the multiple images of him and Bucky on the rooftops, heading into the library, Bucky through the eyes of the Spider-Man suit, Peter bouncing excitedly on the spot in the line at the concessions stand in the movie theatre. There were many instances of him sitting in his suit without the mask on, in full view of a surveillance camera.

The immediate shame was suffocating.

''That’s not – I didn’t – ''

Tony glared him into silence.

''See, I was getting concerned, and feeling guilty if I’m honest, on account of not getting to spend much time with you lately.''

Peter stepped back as Tony moved around the holograms, face impassive save for the furious glint to his eyes.

''And I don’t know why, but I just had this _feeling,'' _Tony said, moving closer, ''that maybe something was up. So I did a little check on the feed from your suit.''

He didn’t look away from Peter’s face as he gestured to one of the holograms where only Bucky’s face was visible. ''What went through my mind, do you think, when I found all of this?''

Some frantic desperation rose up in Peter. ''Mister Stark, I swear, none of this – we were just…'' Peter raked a hand through his hair as his tongue tangled around his words. ''I didn’t mean – ''

_''Don’t,'' _Tony barked, pointing a finger at him, ''tell me you didn’t mean it. See, because my instinct about something being up was _so_ on the money, I had FRIDAY run a facial recognition scan across all the surveillance networks in the city. I mean, you know me, kid,'' Tony said with a sniff, ''once I get a bee in my bonnet, I just can’t stop.''

He waved a hand at the holograms with a bitter laugh. ''And would you look at what I found?''

One by one, the holograms came to life, filling the lab with the sound of voices full of shy warmth and images of an unexpected camaraderie that were suddenly no longer able to do a thing to soothe the turmoil within Peter’s mind.

Here, within the walls of Tony’s lab, Peter and Bucky’s friendship was no longer a safety net, a reprieve for the sadness and loneliness that just wouldn’t let up no matter how much time passed. It was a knife, cutting down on the already fraying connections of Peter and Tony’s relationship, and Peter could only watch the ties between them began to rapidly pull apart with every video that was played.

Tony didn’t watch them. Instead, he watched Peter who shrank more and more under the intensity of his stare with every passing second, with every recorded word that filled the air. 

_ ''Stark’s – Tony’s classic Cadillac would look pretty great against the skyline, huh?''_

_''Definitely.''_

Peter jumped as Tony’s hand came out to wave the holograms away.

''Thought I told you that he was dangerous, to stay away from him.''

''I know,'' Peter said quietly, fighting the urge to look away from Tony's face.

''And once again, you decided to do something that I told you not to.''

''I didn't do it on purpose,'' Peter insisted. ''It just happened.''

Tony rolled his eyes. ''That only works if you don't do it more than once, kid, and clearly this has been going on for a long while.'' He cocked his head to the side, upper lip twitching. ''What was it you two adorably celebrated with a couple of beers? Two months? How sweet.''

''I didn't drink any - ''

''Spare me, Pete.''

Peter clenched his hands into fists. ''Mister Stark, I swear I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. It's just, you and Captain Rogers were hanging out so much and we'd hardly spent any time together and Bucky was on his own and I missed – ''

''You’re telling me that you’ve been hanging out with a ruthless assassin, a _murderer_, the man who sparked a manhunt which led to Rhodey becoming paralysed, because I haven’t been paying enough attention to you?’’

Peter flinched, feeling his eyes start to sting. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, willing himself not to cry, now matter how upsetting it was. He could make Tony understand, he _could. _

''Well, congratulations, kid.'' Tony snapped, throwing his hands in the air. ''Not only has your immaturity reached a whole new level, but you’ve also shown just how little you think of me.''

Frustration and hurt bubbled up inside of Peter, as rapid as a pot of water left too long on the stove. 

''But you're not mad at Captain Rogers for being friends with him!'' He exclaimed. ''You don't hold it against him for talking to Bucky.''

''That's different.'' Tony said. ''As much as it bothers me, I can't begrudge the guy for his loyalty, not when I know I'd be the same way with Rhodey. I may be a lot of things, kid, but a hypocrite isn't one of them.''

Peter grimaced as Tony's face changed, revealing an expression exactly like the one he'd seen on the day of the ferry disaster. 

''I know you're a lot like Steve, _boy _do I know it, but I at least though that if you picked someone to be loyal to in this scenario, it'd be me.''

Injustice sank its fangs into Peter, making him seethe at the unfairness of it all. He wasn't picking sides. He just wanted someone to be there for him that he could count on, somebody who wanted him there always, not just when it was convenient. ''Well, at least when I make plans with Bucky he doesn't cancel on me like you've been doing for weeks, or cast me aside like I don't matter.''

''Oh, so this is my fault?'' Tony laughed bitterly. ''You really have got some front, kid.''

''Yeah, well, maybe I don’t like being used and then thrown aside when the guy who beat the shit out of you comes back and wants to be your best friend again.''

Peter regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. True as they were, they weren’t worth the extremely livid glare Tony levelled him with. He looked disgusted, the worst kind of outraged and it made Peter’s stomach lurch with a terrified kind of nausea.

''And you think spending time with someone like Barnes is the better alternative, do you?''

Peter swallowed, anger ebbing away, leaving him feeling almost lightheaded with a rising panic. He wanted to sit down before his knees gave out but he was frozen to the spot. 

''Mister Stark,'' Peter's voice came out high and shaky, ''I know – I know who you think he is – ''

''Who I think he is? I know _damn well _who he is!''

Tony’s snarl was accompanied by a vicious swipe through the air and a video popped up, showing a dark road with a single lamppost. The time stamp at the bottom of the screen read _DEC 16 1991. _

''You wanna know who he really is? Huh?''

Peter immediately knew what he was about to see. He recognised it instantly. He tried to look away but a hand on his arm pushed him back to face the video just as a car barrelled into the lamppost, a bike zooming past almost invisibly.

''You think you know…'' Tony growled, ''but this is _reality, _kid.''

Peter breathed heavily as the Winter Soldier – because it wasn’t Bucky, not to him – came into view and yanked Howard Stark up by his hair.

_''Sergeant Barnes…''_

_''Howard...Howard…''_

Peter flinched just as Tony did at the sound of Maria’s weak cries. The brutal smack of metal against bone broke into the air and Peter choked, gritting his teeth as Howard collapsed to the floor. He heard the undeniable hitch in Tony’s ragged breathing as the Winter Soldier moved round to the other side of the car where Maria Stark was. Peter squeezed his eyes into narrow slits as a hand reached in and –

''Mister Stark, please!'' Peter blurted, twisting around so that he couldn’t see the screen anymore. ''I’m sorry, I – ''

Peter looked at Tony and the expression he was met with sent a jolt of fear right through him. He’d never been afraid of Tony; nervous, sure, and definitely intimidated but afraid? Even when he saw the full power of the Iron Man suit, Peter had never been afraid. Iron Man was strong but Peter had always believed that Tony Stark was even more powerful. Power didn’t have to equate to fear and Tony was living proof of that.

Now though, as Peter stared up into the face of his mentor, he felt differently.

Any trace of the care and the warmth and the uncertain softness that Peter had caught small snatches of over the last few months was gone, leaving nothing but fury and betrayal.

''You knew.''

Peter’s heart clenched, everything within him kicking into a sickening uproar at the broken hitching sound of Tony’s word.

''You knew,'' Tony whispered, stepping back as though Peter had struck him, ''you knew the entire time and you – ''

''It wasn’t like that,'' Peter cut in, ''I swear it wasn’t.''

''Then what is it like, huh?'' Tony thundered, all semblances of control rapidly falling to the wayside. ''Enlighten me as to what the hell can justify _any of this?''_

''He’s my friend,'' Peter whispered.

''So was I!''

The words flew out of Tony’s mouth with such vitriol that Peter stumbled back, arms coming up defensively. There was such agony on Tony’s face, such a haunted brokenness that it made every inch of Peter’s skin physically ache. He took a step forward, wanting to help, to make it better even though he didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t know why Tony had shouted those words –

''Get out.''

Peter froze instantly. Sweat suddenly coated his palms and something heavy seemed to land in his chest.

''W-what?''

''You heard me,'' Tony barked, turning away sharply, almost falling into the workbench. ''I said _leave.''_

Peter flinched at the coldness of the command, trembling from head to toe, nausea climbing rapidly up into his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a twisted sob. The panic that had been gripping his pulse and snagging against his lungs collapsed into a hot rush and somewhere inside, he thought he felt something break.

He made into the elevator somehow. Then he was rushing through the penthouse, tears in his eyes that just couldn’t quite spill yet. He heard Steve call his name but he didn’t care, nor did he care when his identity was fully exposed to whoever else was in the room as he opened a window and fired a string of webbing whilst diving out of it.

He made it halfway home before the full weight of what had just happened hit him. Shallow, hitched breaths left him in a furious tempo as he landed on a rooftop and fell to his hands and knees, fingers digging into the concrete and shoulders heaving.

Something wretched and agonising, like guilt and loathing and regret, tugged heavily at aching mess of his heart, throwing the beat into further disarray and making Peter gasp for air.

The tears came hot and quick, leaving him curled up with his face pressed into his knees, sobbing so hard that he didn’t think he’d ever stop.

It was long past dawn when he finally did.

* * *

Two nights later, at much too late of an hour, Bucky found him out on patrol.

''So is this how you do things when you’re upset? You change rooftops, go all covert?'' Bucky quipped, dropping down beside Peter with a grunt. ''I gotta tell ya, you’re not much good at it.''

Peter didn’t say anything.

''I heard about what happened,'' Bucky said after a few minutes.

Peter’s head snapped to look at him. ‘’How – ‘’

''Caught Tony and Steve in the middle of arguing about it.''

The heaviness that had been sitting in Peter’s stomach for what felt like a lifetime grew instantly worse, making him nauseous. He hadn’t heard from Tony at all, and he’d been feigning tiredness to avoid the chance of May taking one look at him and knowing something was wrong. Out on patrol, he thought he’d find some sort of distraction, but it was as though the criminal classes had banded together to increase his misery and decided to take some time off.

Leaving Peter nothing to do but sit and think.

A hand dropped onto his back and patted him twice.

''I’m sorry, Pete.''

''He hates me, Bucky.''

To his surprise, Bucky laughed.

''Oh, you have got to be kidding me,'' he scolded mildly. ''I don’t even have to be around the guy to know that he’s as soft as shit for you. You got more chance of sprouting wings and flying south for the winter than you have of him hating you.''

''You didn’t see his face,'' Peter said quietly, flinching as Tony’s hateful stare shoved its way into his head. ''He’s never looked at me like that before. N-not even when - '' he stopped as his voice rose in a warbled pitch and clamped his lips together so hard that they hurt. ''I let him down once and he gave me a second chance. And now it’s all screwed up.''

He tipped his head forward into his knees, pressing his eyes into them to try and stop the tears he was so sick of crying. The hand on his back rubbed back and forth slowly, pressing firmly against any points of tension it came across.

''It’s my fault, pal. All of it. You and Tony, Tony and Steve – things would be fine if it weren’t for me.''

''That’s not true,'' Peter argued, ''you can’t think that.''

''Of course it’s true, kid,'' Bucky sighed. ''Guys like me? We’re better off alone. You and Steve, you’re good for people, good for people like Tony. I know what he means to you and ‘cause of me, ‘cause of this,'' he patted Peter’s back again, ''it’s caused a rift and I…I can’t be the reason for any more pain, especially not for Tony and Steve. Or you.''

''So, what,'' Peter said, shoving away from Bucky’s touch. ''You’re just gonna leave me too?''

Bucky flinched. ''That’s not what I’m saying – ''

''I mean, hey, it’s fine,'' Peter’s laugh was hysterical as he stood up. ''Everybody does it. Haven’t you heard? I’m Peter Parker, everybody I care about ends up leaving me one way or another.''

''Pete – ''

Karen spoke then, alerting him to an armed robbery taking place a short distance away. Peter took one last look at Bucky. Blue eyes flickering with regret and a mouth turned down in a pitying grimace looked back at him. Peter didn’t say a word as he hopped off the roof, plummeting further down the usual before releasing his webshooters.

It didn’t take him long to find the robbers. The gang was large, packing a rather impressive collection of weapons and halfway through busting their way into a bank. It was nothing new and Peter wasted no time in getting stuck in, taking out half of them before leading the stragglers in a merry chase down a nearby alley, hoping to use the cover of darkness to his advantage.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t been sleeping properly that things ended up going terribly wrong. Maybe it was the lack of eating, or the gnawing anguish in his stomach that wouldn’t let up no matter what he did that led him to him making a mistake. Whatever it was, it was enough for Peter to let his guard down, for his senses to fail him and leave him wide open.

One split second turn of his back to catch the baseball bat flying towards his head was all it took.

There was a sudden deafening bang from behind him, quickly followed by a sharp jolt to the body that sent Peter staggering into the wall.

''Holy shit, man! You got ‘im!''

Peter could taste metal. There was a ringing in his ears and something red hot stabbing him right through somewhere in his lower back. A fire was spreading round to his front and he slapped a hand over his lower abdomen just as the hilt of a gun collided with his face.

He went down with a surprised groan but immediately began to move, shifting backwards even as the pain began to increase. There was something sticky seeping between his fingers and he realised then what had happened.

He’d been shot.

_''Peter, I am detecting a significant deterioration in your vitals. You must seek immediate medical assistance.''_

''I’m f-fine,'' Peter hissed, barely managing to roll out of the way as the baseball bat came for him again.

_''Calling Mister Stark – ''_

''Don’t!'' Peter cried, staggering to his feet, vision tunnelling. ''D-don’t do that, Karen, please – ''

_''Kid?''_

''No! _– _''

Tony’s voice vanished as something struck Peter from behind. A vicious, burning jab in his shoulder that spread all the way to his front, bringing him to his knees. He blinked, stunned, hand coming up to rest on his chest, fingers slipping against something wet.

Another bullet.

A foot connected with his head, once, twice before stamping on his back, stealing the air from his lungs and turning every bone to stone as the pain from the gunshot wounds overcame him. A hand seized him by the hair and dragged backwards, turning him over. Then there was a boot digging into the wound in his stomach with such merciless force that he could do nothing to hold back the scream.

''Say goodnight, Spidey.''

The nozzle of a gun loomed in front of Peter’s face, flickering with his waning vision, and Peter found himself thinking of hugging May, of laughing with Ned and MJ, of rooftop sunrises with Bucky and warm days with Tony where anything and everything seemed possible –

''Hey!''

The furious voice came just before a metal fist swung straight into the face of the gunman. The man fell back with a cry and somebody followed with ruthless speed. The two of them vanished from Peter’s view into a whirl of rapid gunfire, muffled shouting and yells of pain.

Peter shoved himself up as best as he could, hands sliding against the wetness that was steadily surrounding him. There was a pulse in his throat and the world was jumping like static.

Bucky appeared, looking utterly wild with fury and fear.

''Peter!''

Hands grabbed at his face, one tapping him sharply on the cheek.

''Oh, don’t do this to me, punk, come on – ''

Bucky tapped him again, harder this time. ''You with me, Pete? You hear me?''

''B-Buck…'' Peter drawled, tongue feeling too big for his mouth. He lifted an arm only to slide backwards, a gasping cry flying out of his mouth as his shoulder hit the ground.

''Fuck, _fuck,'' _Bucky choked, and then there was an agonising pressure somewhere low down and somewhere up high. ''I’m sorry, sorry, kid, but I need to stop the bleeding.''

Peter was shivering, hands coming up to grasp weakly at Bucky’s jacket, bloody fingers slipping against the material. Bucky was muttering rapidly, a jumble of words about calling Steve and getting help, and then there was a clang of metal on ground and suddenly he was gone, hurtling through the air and being pinned to the wall by a shiny hand.

''Get the _fuck_ away from my kid – ''

''He’s hurt!'' Bucky grunted, driving a foot into Tony and knocking him back. He threw an arm out to block Tony’s swinging punch and Peter moaned as a repulsor whirred to life, the light blazing right into Bucky’s face.

''Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fucking kill you right now, Barnes.''

''Go ahead!'' Bucky snarled, glaring defiantly into the Iron Man mask. ''I get it, you hate my guts, you can do whatever you want about it later but right now – ''

''M-mister Stark!'' Peter groaned, knocking his arm weakly against the back of Tony’s leg.

''Jesus, kid,'' Tony was beside him instantly, mask flipping up to reveal his face. It blurred horribly and Peter let out a sob, so desperately sad that he couldn’t see it. Everything was dark now, the sharp edges of pain ebbing away into the approaching blackness even as fresh pressure was put on his wounds.

''Kid? Stay with me, okay?'' Tony sounded scared, sad. Peter didn’t want him to feel like that.

''S-sorry – ''

''Nope, no, none of that,'' Tony barked, sounding so far away. ''We’re not doing that. You gotta stay awake, kiddo, okay?''

Peter tried, he really did. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay right here with Tony, right here where Tony wasn’t mad at him, where he cared.

He pushed against the darkness curling in on him, hoping he could head it off with sheer force of will, but it was no use. Above him, Tony and Bucky’s voices whirled into one as they spoke in frantic bursts; hands pushed against him and then the floor fell away and he knew nothing more.

* * *

'' – with me, buddy?''

Awareness crept though Peter like water, softly washing him to shore.

''C’mon, Underoos, you can do it.''

With what felt like a gargantuan effort, Peter opened his eyes.

''Hey, there he is.''

A heart monitor beeped somewhere just out of his eyeline. There was an IV stand next to him and a tube or two going into his left arm. The distinctive scent of saline tickled his nostrils and his body thrummed with the familiar heaviness of painkillers; not enough to make him sleepy but enough to make him feel sluggish and weighed down. Peter shifted his head with a wince and started at the sight of Tony sitting by his bedside.

He was dressed in an oversized hoodie and faded jeans and looked incredibly tired. The bags beneath in his eyes were almost purple against the terribly pale pallor of his skin and his hair was a mess, spilling forward across his forehead in a way that made him look oddly young.

He was smiling.

Gently, tensely, eyes shining with something dark, but he was smiling.

Peter’s heart soared at the sight, sending the heart monitor into a momentary overdrive.

He felt himself smile back, a pathetic lift of his lips, but it seemed to be enough to stir something in Tony because he was on his feet immediately.

''Pete, I’m…I’m sorry,'' Tony muttered and the next thing Peter knew, Tony was leaning down and pulling him into a hug. ''I’m sorry.''

Peter didn’t hesitate to bring his arms around Tony’s shoulders, holding on as tightly as the medicine in his system would allow. He buried his aching face into the crook of Tony’s neck to try and stem the flow of tears that came to his eyes, but the hand weaving into his hair immediately broke the dam and he let go, a hundred different emotions pummelling one another in a race to the surface. Tony shifted closer, perching on the edge of the bed and pulling Peter up against his chest, holding him in a way that kept pressure off his injuries. They throbbed insistently with the sobs shuddering through Peter’s body but he couldn’t stop, felt like he would never stop. Lips pressing against his forehead in a soft kiss pulled a wrenching moan from somewhere deep down and Peter cried harder, as hard as he could remember crying since Ben died.

''It’s okay, buddy,'' Tony whispered, goatee tickling Peter’s skin. ''You’re okay, it’s okay…''

He was rocking Peter gently, the hand in Peter’s hair rubbing soft circles into his scalp, and for a moment Peter wondered if he was dreaming or if he’d actually died out there in that alleyway.

But the warmth of Tony, the low rumble of his voice and the scent of motor oil and coffee was too real to be a dream. Peter nuzzled his wet face into Tony’s neck, taking short, jerky breaths as Tony continued to mumble further assurances into his hair. Maybe it should have been weird, the way they were clinging onto each other, because hugs were a rarity between them and usually only lasted for the briefest of moments. Maybe it should have been weird because the last time they were together, Tony’s face had been full of poison and his words cold and void of care.

But it wasn’t weird.

Like he could read Peter’s thoughts, Tony gave him the softest of squeezes. ''Never knew a skinny runt like you could be so cuddly, kiddo.''

Peter’s surprised laugh was short and wet. He rubbed his forehead against Tony’s shoulder before tiling back, supported by Tony’s arms. His senses flexed, momentarily clearing just enough for him to notice more than his immediate surroundings.

''May?''

''She’s here. She’s resting – ''

''Upstairs,'' Peter said quietly, ''I can hear her heartbeat.''

Tony blinked and then shook his head with a chuckle. ''Right. Super duper spider-baby superpowers, how could I forget?''

Peter chose not to mention the other nearby heart that was thumping nervously somewhere just outside the door. There was another one beating alongside it in an out of time tempo; steadier and calmer.

''How long have I been here?''

''Almost two days.''

''Oh…''

''Yeah,'' Tony said softly. ''You remember what happened?''

Peter focused on Tony’s face. There was no trace of the venomous outrage or the bitter pain that had kept Peter up at night. Instead the softness was back, hesitant but still vivid.

''I got shot.''

''You got shot _twice,''_ Tony amended with a sigh. ''It was a close call, kid. Too close. What have we talked about, huh?'' He gave Peter the smallest of frowns. ''Trying to kick ass on no sleep never ends well.''

''I know,'' Peter mumbled, closing his eyes and soaking up the familiar sensation of being reprimanded. ''I’m sorry.''

''Hey, we don’t say that – ''

''I didn’t mean to hurt you.''

Tony flinched and Peter immediately tucked himself back in, pressing his forehead firmly against Tony’s shoulder and clenching a handful of his hoodie in a tight fist. He was so tired; so_, so_ tired but he didn’t want to sleep, not when the lull in the vitriol was happening now, not when he could maybe find a way to put things right.

''Mister Stark – ''

''I know you didn’t, kid.'' Tony’s arms curled around him in another hug. ''I know.''

''…Sucked not seeing you as much.''

''Yeah, Barnes told me the whole story. I’m sorry you felt like that, Pete. I should have realised.''

Peter’s head jerked back. ''You _talked _to Bucky?''

Tony grimaced. ''That’s one word for it.''

''What did he say?''

''A lot. As did Rogers, as did – look, it’s adult stuff, kid. It’s done.''

Peter wanted to argue but a sharp flare of pain up his back made him hiss.

''Okaaaay,'' Tony said, standing up to help Peter settle back into the pillows, ''that’s enough for now. Alive you may be, but you still need to rest up.''

Peter burrowed his fingers into Tony’s sleeves. ''Did you fix it?''

''Fix what?''

Peter narrowed his eyes slightly and Tony sighed, dropping back into the chair he had been sitting in previously.

''It’s not as easy as that, kid.''

''It can be,'' Peter insisted. ''He saved me.''

''Yes, and I thanked him for it.''

Peter groaned in frustration. ''Mister Stark, it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hate him.''

Tony clenched his jaw, looking angry for a split second, before a strained weariness fell over his features.

''Kid, you’ve got no idea what it feels like to look into the face of the guy who stole so much from you.''

Peter took a deep breath.

''Yeah I do.''

Tony squinted at him, clearly irritated but doing his best to keep it hidden.

''And how’s that exactly?''

''My uncle.''

Tony cocked his head questioningly. ''What do you mean?''

''I was with him,'' Peter said softly, ''w-when he died, I mean, I was there.''

Tony sat back, peering at him thoughtfully. ''I’m sorry, Pete, I’m not following.''

''Well…you know he got shot, right? I told you that?'' At Tony’s nod, he continued. ''I was with him. The only reason he was out that night was to find me, because we’d had an argument...'' Peter’s words trailed off as the parallel hit him smack in the face.

Tony seemed to have the same thought and reached out to give Peter’s knee a firm shake, like doing so would throw the thought away.

Peter swallowed, chest tightening as he pushed on. ''We – we were arguing outside a store and some guy came running out. He knocked into Uncle Ben and I – I guess it made him angry ‘cause he started waving this gun in our faces and asking for money.''

''Jesus, kid – ''

''Ben…he – he tried to get the guy to walk away and I just stood there and then the gun went off and – '' Peter inhaled so sharply it sounded like a yelp. ''It was my fault. I had my powers then but I just stood there and – ''

''Oh, kiddo.''

Peter didn’t realise he was crying again until Tony sat beside him, legs up on the bed beside Peter’s, and pulled him back into an embrace. Fingers carded soothingly through his hair and the beat of Tony’s heart was as soft as a lullaby against Peter’s side.

''_None _of that is your fault, understand? Kid, you had no control over any of that - ''

''Neither did Bucky,'' Peter said, voice as pained as he felt. ''He was brainwashed, Mister Stark.''

Tony sighed again but didn’t say anything.

''You know that,'' Peter pushed, heart monitor going wild again as he tried to keep himself calm, ''deep down, I know you do.''

''Fine, I know it, kid, okay?'' Tony bit out. ''But that doesn’t change what happened. It still _happened.''_

''I know,'' Peter said, leaning his head against Tony’s shoulder before looking up at him. ''I wish I knew what to say to make it easier for you...But Bucky’s been real good to me, Mister Stark. May…May always says that we need more kindness in the world, more good things.'' He smiled softly, remembering all that had taken place with Bucky over the last few weeks, even if it had begun as a result of something sad and hurtful. ''I think he’s one of the good things.''

He butted his head against Tony’s shoulder. ''Like you.''

Tony’s breath hitched in his chest. ''Trust Aunt Hottie to say something like that.''

''She’s clever that way.''

''Mm,'' Tony agreed, moving his hand from Peter's hair to rest against the back of his neck. ''Barnes was right about something, you know.''

''He was?''

''Yeah,'' Tony fixed him with a look, ''I don't think you're annoying or pathetic or needy.''

Peter flushed and tried to look away, but a finger and thumb gently holding his chin kept him in place. ''Don't get me wrong, kid, you're a stubborn pain in the ass and you nearly give me heart attacks on the regular. But,'' he tapped Peter's jaw with his finger, ''you're kind, kiddo, unfailingly so...and I think if there was a lot more _you_ in the world, we'd all have an easier time of it.''

Peter burrowed back into him, making Tony chuckle. 

''Look at you. Guess I've signed myself up for a lot more of these, huh?'' 

Peter nodded, the lingering tears in his eyes drying up to make way for a small smile. ''Yeah, you have.''

It was a moment Peter had never imagined, never even dared to conjure up even in his wildest dreams. Tony hugging him, protective and gentle, no sign of him going anywhere anytime soon. He sucked in a surprised breath as he felt Tony's chin rest against his hair. 

''Barnes is lucky to have a friend like you, Pete.''

Peter's smile grew a little more, and maybe it was because he was nestled into Tony and couldn't see his face, that he was brave enough to say what he did next. ''He could be your friend too...maybe?''

He felt Tony stiffen and immediately held on tight, hoping Tony wouldn't push him away. But then Tony relaxed again, his chin tightening over the curve of Peter's head. ''That's a lot to ask, kiddo. Too much, I think.''

Peter pulled away to look at Tony. ''I know it’s hard but,'' he crossed his fingers, ''do you think you can at least try?''

Tony looked at him and right then, Peter felt that something had changed. The undeniable tenderness on Tony’s face, reflected in just a gentle curve of his mouth and a flicker of brightness in his dark eyes, was all that Peter needed to know that it would be okay.

That they were okay.

''No promises, kiddo,'' Tony said, but the small smirk said otherwise.

Peter nodded and smiled, picking at the covers bashfully. He felt exhausted and achy, like he could sleep for a hundred years if he had a mind to.

And happy. The happiest he’d been in what felt like forever. The guilt for what happened with Ben was still there, sharp and piercing, but Tony's words had covered them like thick gauze, soothing the discomfort just enough for it not to sting so much. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could help Tony feel the same way about Bucky. 

The thought of the other man tuned his hearing back into the heartbeats still sitting outside the door.

''Can they come in now?'' Peter asked with quiet eagerness, looking pointedly at the door. 

Tony rolled his eyes and stood up to go and open the door. Just as his hand closed over the handle, a memory buzzed through Peter’s mind.

''You called me your kid.'' 

Tony paused.

''I did.''

Peter ducked his head as Tony turned to look at him, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

''That’s um…a thing.''

To Peter’s surprise, Tony laughed, warm and rich and real.

''Just as well you’re not really mine though,'' Tony said lightly, ''as I think these last few weeks have shown what a terrible father I’d be. No new knowledge there but – ''

''I think you’re pretty good,'' Peter interrupted shyly, still not looking up. ''I mean, I think you would be, y’know, if – ''

''I hear you, bud.''

Peter lifted his head to catch Tony’s gaze, fond and tender.

Then the door opened and two hulking masses of super soldier barged in. Steve immediately started talking at Tony, something about needing to ''go upstairs and get some damn sleep already'' while Bucky made straight for Peter’s bedside.

''Hey, are you – ''

Peter’s words turned into a surprised squeak as Bucky bent down and hugged him, hooking his arms just right to avoid his injuries. 

''Don’t you _ever _do that again, you little punk,'' Bucky growled. ''I already did my time worrying about a small, reckless idiot back in the thirties.''

''Yeah, he’s an old man, Peter,'' Steve chuckled, ''you can’t go around scaring him like that.''

Peter grinned as Bucky pulled away. ''Guess it comes with the territory.''

''No,'' Tony said, ''it comes with being a pain in the ass who just so happens to be part spider.''

Peter scowled before pointing over at Steve. ''What about Captain Rogers? He’s not part spider so what excuse does he have?''

''That’s easy,'' Bucky grinned. ''He’s just an asshole.''

Tony’s laugh broke out like a firework, loud and free and it instantly sent Peter into a fit of giggles. Steve’s head fell forward but there was no hiding the gigantic smile on his face while Bucky beamed smugly, giving Peter's hair a fond ruffle as he did so. 

* * *

''Hey, fidget,'' Tony grumbled, lifting one of Peter’s feet up and giving it a shake, ''you wanna stop kicking me?''

''Sorry,'' Peter wriggled around a bit more, settling for laying on his side with one arm tucked behind his head and his feet in Tony’s lap. ''Okay, you can press play now.''

''Oh, _can _I? Deep joy.''

Peter buried a grin into the crook of his arm just as the opening scene began to play.

''You even gonna stay awake for this, kiddo?'' Tony asked, rubbing a thumb over Peter’s ankle.

''Mmhmm,'' Peter replied, widening his eyes deliberately as tiredness began to rapidly cover him.

''Sure? We can always watch it another night, you know.''

Peter nudged him with his foot. ''Shhh, watching.''

Tony snorted but obediently fell silent, keeping up the soft trace of patterns across Peter’s ankle. Peter shivered a little as a jolt of glee went through him. The change between them had been sudden and almost instant in the wake of Peter being injured. It was as though somebody had taken one look at the floodgates holding back all that was left unsaid or kept hidden away and taken a sledgehammer to it. What was once rigid and guarded was now open and bright, paving the way for a stronger kind of connection, one that allowed for more laughter, more affection, more joy.

It was good. Really, really good.

Peter hummed happily, making Tony chuckle, but in a knowing kind of way that told Peter that he felt the same.

The arrival of the elevator less than ten minutes into the movie had Tony groaning and hitting pause. Peter looked up, grinning dozily as Bucky and Steve stepped into the room.

''Don’t look at them like that,'' Tony waved a hand at the screen. ''Because of them you have to wait even longer to see what happens to Ripley for the hundredth time.''

''Ripley?'' Bucky said, wandering over for a closer look. ''That the movie where she throws the alien out into space?''

Tony stared up at him in shock. ''You’ve seen it?''

Bucky snorted. ''No.''

Understanding dawned on Tony’s face and he looked over at Peter with a smirk. ''Gotcha.''

Peter rolled his eyes and shuffled back down on the couch. ''Stop picking on me.''

Tony chuckled. ''You gonna join us?'' he asked, looking back up at Bucky.

The question seemed to floor Bucky and he blinked awkwardly down at Tony, shoulders hunching up with instinctive defence.

It was a big move. Three weeks since Peter had been released from the medbay and it was the boldest step taken yet. There had been little ones; small nods of greeting leading into a civil word here and there; shared smirks at the expense of Steve and Peter and a tentative but undeniable acceptance of the presence of the other.

The distance was there. Perhaps it always would be; neither man was one to forget the wrongs and the hurts of their pasts and Peter didn’t ever expect that to really change.

But a door had been opened, just a little, and right now, that was enough.

''What do you think, Stevie?'' Bucky said as the other man came up behind him, clutching a bag of popcorn and two cans of soda, one of which he handed to Bucky. ''Or will you be too embarrassed to let these guys see you hold my hand when you get scared?''

Steve cuffed him over the back of the head. ''Just for that, I'm not gonna sit with you.''

Bucky snorted before giving him a salute and hopping over the back of the couch, landing in the gap between Peter and the armrest. ''Hey, punk.''

Peter lazily thwacked him on the leg in greeting, earning a bop on the forehead in response. ''Hey,'' Bucky jeered, looking over to where Steve was settling in next to Tony, leaning their shoulders together companionably. ''No canoodling over there, you two. There’s children present.''

''Alright, Robocop, that’s it – ''

Peter sighed happily, eyes falling shut as pillows began to sail over his head to the sound of Steve’s exasperated scolding.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Thoughts and kudos are always appreciated <3 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://frostysunflowers.tumblr.com/)


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